


Learning, one Step at a Time

by SpankedbySpike



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Diary/Journal, Gen, Good Parent John Winchester, Hitchhiking, Hunting, John Winchester's Journal, John's Journal, Spanking, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy hitchhike for the first time at 8 and it doesn't end as well as he'd imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning, one Step at a Time

Sammy was stalked. Few times now I noticed the Black Seville parked close to him. I've never caught anyone in it, or even close to it. We moved once and for the last two months things have been quiet on that front.

Still, it made me wonder. Was the fire in the Nursery about Sammy? Was he the actual target? Is there something unique or special about him?

I've tried to discretely test him, he has no concept of Good and Evil, he can drink Holy Water all day long and I've asked him to recite some protection spells in Latin, he does it without blinking enjoying the challenge and with absolutely no understanding of the Supernatural. Just having fun with his old man!

 

Still, finding that car five times around my boy was unnerving, so moving was a no brainer. As is teaching his big brother to use a gun safely.

I keep telling Dean that Sammy is his responsibility. It's not true. The boys are my responsibility. Mary gave me the best present possible in them. They have her vivacity, her smile, her curiosity and I couldn't have dreamed of a better legacy for the both of us to leave in this world.

These boys are my life and their safety is my raison d'etre. So, I'm doing stuff that will horify the good folks of Middle America. I run my household like a small platoon. Order is essential but honing skills is what will make the difference.

 

Sammy with his chubby little hands can't handle the tools of my trade, so I just monitor the fact he is in good shape, keep a sharp eye towards his surroundings, and is encouraged in his appetite for life and knowledge.

So, I am mostly teaching my eldest. How to fire a gun, how to fire a riffle, How to throw a knife. Those are the fun stuff, and then it's supplemented with cleaning duty, how to sharpen the family knives, how to clean the barrels, how to be sure the safety is always on... Dean looks at it like this is field training for some Spy game and I'm not going to bust his bubble.

It's hard enough to make it work as a family, if the boys have fun with the extracurricular activities, I certainly wasn't man enough not to take advantage of it!

Now Dean seems ready for the next phase... Taking a life! I refuse to think of it that way. Humanity has hunted since the dawn of time and going after some game is a matter of survival sometimes. But I know my son, he will think of it as a game until the last minute and when it will be time to pull the trigger he probably wouldn't be able to finish the kill. And that would be alright too, there is a time for everything and it is as good a preparation as any.

 

***

Sunday was a shiny cold day. Our breaths puffed and crystallized around us, the ground cover crisp and breaking under the well worn boots, the birds and most small creatures all assembled along the river down below. Sammy had been asleep when we left and Bobby had promised to keep him company and had agreed to watch over him for the day. They had planned a visit to the park and an afternoon at Chuck E Cheese; a fun day all around in its simplicity and it helped Dean and I to concentrate on the task at hand.

I had scouted this remote wood a number of times and had a mind to go after a deer or a doe, or anything big enough that my boy could target it without being too close and risk an injury. The trail we were following was barely large enough for us but it was clear it was used often. Dean had been a real trooper so far, walking for more than an hour, attentive to his surroundings, taking note of all the lessons shared along the way, and whispering questions when unsure. We both had fun and between the furtive smiles and the approving squeezes of my hand on his shoulder, Dean was blissful.

That's when we saw it. A magnificent buck, just at the edge of the sun drenched opening in the forest. I stopped on the tracks and followed with interest Dean’ approach. He too had spotted the twelve pointer and had dropped low trying to disguise his scent and his arrival. He walked carefully raising his rifle and not exactly aiming but aligning himself, ready to take his shot. And then the inexplicable happened.

In slow motion, I am looking at my son stepping on a protruding tree roots, lose his balance and fall, letting go of his firearm who slid a few feet in front of him. Even more surreal, little Sammy appears out of nowhere and with an accuracy I did not expect, pick up the rifle, aim and shoot the big deer.  
I can't tell you by what grace that little boy laid down this magnificent beast but both Dean and me were stomped. We saw it happen and yet it feels unreal. I look at both boys, including the one that should still be in bed but just saved the day.

"Damn Sammy? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi Dad!" Little Sam barely looked my way before rushing to the side of his fallen brother. Dean hasn't found his voice yet, eyes glued on the now abandoned riffle. And that haunted look is enough to break into my incredulous daze and got me on my knees checking on my children...

So it took us a while to get situated, to decide what to do with the first Winchester deer, to walk back to the car and figure out how Sam made it to us in the nick of time... And by then, I was a bit miffed and I know every parent in their right mind would be too. My seven years old just hitchhiked with a stranger to run in the woods at the risk of getting lost and then rushed to use a loaded gun under the misguided understanding that a freaking deer was going to hurt his poor brother... I couldn't talk, I would have exploded. Of course, Dean took it personally and thought I was mad at him, completely erroneous understanding but it made me smile and I ruffled both boys hair, walking leisurely back. There was plenty of time left in the weekend to deal with this while not forgetting the one important element: the boys were in great health, and with me!

***

It wasn't even eleven am by the time we got back. So, I sent the boys upstairs while dealing with a traumatized baby sitter slash hunter who'd been making a racket all over their area trying to find little Sammy. Alcohol wouldn't be enough for the commotion, the boy would have to apologize and mean it! Because, boy was Bobby upset. I know that he used to threaten the kids with his wicked yielding of the kitchen spoon and I also knew that even though they minded him because of it, he never would touch a hair of their precious heads. It wasn’t in his temperament and I wouldn’t let anyone ever discipline them, just on principle. But that was all for this afternoon. A shared beer later and a reassurance that I wasn't pissed at him, I finally could leave Bobby behind, straightening the kitchen while I went searching for my boys.  
I found them crowding Dean's bed, with my eldest reading aloud and his baby brother simply listening all eyes and ears on the story. It was an idyllic picture I wanted to commit to memory, because I knew I was going to have to shoot it to hell and back.

***

“Dean, you gotta promise me to practice a bit more son. Today you dropped the ball and if it wasn’t a learning experience you would have put yourself and anyone with you at risk.”  
Dean looked at me with unshed tears in his eyes. “I know Dad. I don’t know what happened. I was so excited; I paid absolutely no attention to my surroundings and fell.”  
John sat on the bed next to them and pulled Dean to him. “It’s okay boyo. We will get another chance and before that we will go through all the standard drills!”  
Dean smiled and relaxed in his dad embrace. I knew he would be afraid and probably embarrassed but there was nothing more to do now and no sense in making him more upset. After all his little brother just outsmarted him and out skilled him, it ought to suck.

“Sam, you on the other hand, did something so dangerous, I don’t even know where to start.”  
Sammy rushed underneath the cover and hid as if I couldn’t see him or know where he was. I almost laughed.  
“Sammy, you can never hitchhike. It’s dangerous, people get abducted, we could have lost you. What came to your mind, it’s not like Dean or me never had that discussion with you.”

Sam head slowly appeared from under the covers, a frown marring his childlike features. “But I knew him. He drives by my school to drop his kid. Mr. Alstair is not a stranger.” Oh gosh, John was going to die... But it’s Dean that lost it. “Fuck, Sammy. It doesn’t matter; you never go in a car with anyone not authorized by Dad or me!” He swiftly pulled the cover off his brother and grabbed him and in an instant John had to separate them, fearing the fight that seemed inevitable.

“Dean! Language!” I had two little hellions to contend with now. So I put myself right in the middle. Dean you can spend the next five minutes in the corner then, while I finish with Sam here.

“But Dad…” I was bracing for a full on whine session but something in my gaze or attitude squash that budding rebellion and he marches himself to the left of the bed. Sammy is on his knees behind my broad back looking at his brother taking position like I am his protector. I can’t believe he doesn’t realize I am quickly turning into his worst nightmare… I reached behind and pull him on my knee, with a heavy hand at his waist and confident in his position he reaches up and throws his arms around my neck in a tight hug.

For a moment, I am simply enjoying the closeness, glancing at a quiet Dean and deciding how to get into my trustful baby boy mind what is acceptable, what is safe, what is frightening without dwelling into the existence of demons and other creatures… I turned his head and looked him in the eyes. “You do not go anywhere with strangers. If people we have not vented approach you, refuse to follow them, yell, make as much noise as possible, kick them in the shin, whatever it takes but don’t ever go because too often that’s how people disappear; never to be seen again.” John felt like an eel. His baby had tears swimming in his big open eyes and grabbed him with even more force.

“I am so proud of you, son. You handled that gun like a pro, kept your head level and your stance good. However, I truly want you to remember that I am not going to let the hitchhiking pass without a spanking. I do it because I am afraid for you, I care about what happens to you and because we both need to be reminded of some of our rules, we’ll take care of that problem right now.” Smoothly, I pushed my young son forward and got his legs stuck between my own. He was usually a fighter but things went so fast he hadn’t reacted yet. The mighty smack I landed on his covered bottom set his mind to peace as to what the next minutes will be about.

I didn’t have the heart to make my point on the bare, but I sure wasn’t letting him go without a heavy reminder, so I spanked him fast, eager to make the statement within the 5 minutes allotted to Dean’s corner time. Within a minute, Sam was squirming like he had ants in his pants, by the second minute he had started with the pleas, by the third minute he was holding my pant so hard and scrambling for purchase I knew I’d sport my own marks at the end of this trip over my knees, the fourth minute had the first tears dropping and my hand finally feeling the pain of this quick fire spanking so it seemed like as good as any time to stop the spanking and getting my baby back up to face the piper.

“It’s over Sam, you’re okay.” I always have to talk to him to bring him back to the present and the fact that his ordeal had ended.

With my thumbs, I dried the fat tears falling, leaving only the wet ones on the edge of his eyes, the hiccups slowly fading, the nose still congested but the relief evident in the fact things could only get better from this point forward.

I squeezed him a bit too much probably but I love this kid, he is just amazing! I called his brother then. “Come on Dean, you’ve served your time… Your brother too, no more hitting each other, you guys promise?”

“Yes Dad.” And with that he came and hugged both his brother and me. Forcefully. And I grabbed him for a quick kiss on the hair as well. We all needed lots of hugs, and be full of hope for the future, for a life finally free of founded or unfounded fears.

 

The End.

 

_Thank you for reading and Happy Healthy and Prosperous New Year everyone!_

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: Inspired by actual entries in John Winchester journal, we were to create a spanking story based on some of those facts.  
> For the 2012 Holiday challenge for the following prompt:  
>  **Will you ever learn? April 19, 1991**  
>  _The hunting trip was nearly a disaster. Dean missed his shot. I sent him after the buck, a beautiful twelve-pointer, and he dropped the gun when he tripped on the trail. Then out of nowhere comes Sammy, who picks up the gun and lays that big boy out. A seven-year-old . . . well, almost eight._  
>  Then he tells me that he thought the deer had taken Dean’s gun, and that Sammy had to protect him.  
> It’s moments like those that kill me. I taught him that, Dean too. I taught them that everything should be seen as a threat. And now Sammy sees a deer and thinks it’s trying to hurt his brother.  
> Things got worse from there because Sammy told me he’d gotten up, wanting to come after me and Dean, and found the man in the black Seville outside Bobby’s house. He rode in the Seville to the trailhead, and found us from there. I don’t even know how to get my head around that. I feel like I should punish him somehow, but the truth is I should be punishing myself.
> 
> Dean is 12 and Sammy is 8
> 
>  
> 
> Crossposted at spn_spankings: http://spn-spankings.livejournal.com/385949.html  
> and at my LJ: http://spankedbyspike.livejournal.com/35941.html
> 
> Not Betaed, please don't hesitate to let me know about errors, glaring or not, thanks.


End file.
